


lucky charming

by corallydica



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 10:00:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1118555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corallydica/pseuds/corallydica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt's visiting Lima for the weekend and runs into Dave at the grocery store.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lucky charming

**Author's Note:**

> This title is so stupid. I am sorry. Really, really sorry.

Kurt was visiting Lima for the weekend, and a busy weekend it was turning out to be.

As soon as he’d gotten in the front door, Sam descended upon him, speaking in hushed tones about needing fashion advice. His brows were comically furrowed, fingers curling around Kurt’s jacketed forearm. Kurt smiled and very gently told him that lesson one was not to manhandle Vivienne Westwood, and Sam looked thoughtful and then wholly confused.

And there was Burt, who had dug a box of old home movies out of god-knows-where and had recruited Kurt to help decide which ones to convert to DVD. “Doing all of ‘em would be a pain in the ass,” Burt had told him, “so pick your favorites. And none where I’m wearing that stupid hat! You know the one.”

Blaine was probably the most demanding. Or, no, high-maintenance. That’s a better word. Blaine was the most high-maintenance. He needed Kurt to listen to him run through his top five song selections for glee club, and then help him narrow that down to two, and then listen to those two again, and then tell him which was the best choice and exactly why Kurt felt that way.

And then there was the matter of choosing Blaine’s outfit for some last-minute dance that the school was throwing; a fundraiser of sorts, put together by Sue Sylvester, undoubtedly to funnel more money into the Cheerios fund. But Blaine was insistent about going, and seemed even more dead set on shooting down every idea Kurt put forward. “You’re right,” Kurt eventually deadpanned, “if only we had someone here who worked for Vogue.”

Kurt went home without a kiss goodnight, and he wasn’t sure exactly whose decision that had been, but he felt utterly fine about it.

Carole had planned in advance that she and Kurt would be making breakfast on Sunday morning; Kurt would make his french vanilla crepes and she would make her famous fruit salad. Upon further discussion with the rest of the household and a ‘best of three’ battle of rock paper scissors that Sam won (with Burt’s enthusiastic support), the list was amended to add home fries and bacon.

Kurt volunteered to go to the grocery store on Saturday for the things they still needed; mostly to save Carole a trip but also because he felt a little stifled, somehow, a little too boxed in and overwhelmed. Some fresh air would do him some good, he decided, so he rolled down his windows and blasted Lorde on the drive.

He’d just finished tossing a few packs of turkey bacon into his basket when he heard a familiar voice call out his name. Dave was standing next to a display of breakfast cereals, frozen with a box of Lucky Charms in his hand.

"Hey!" Kurt said after a beat, flashing a bright smile as he crossed over to him. He regarded the box in Dave’s hand with mock disapproval. "Personally, I prefer Cheerios."

Dave looked down at his hand like he’d entirely forgotten he was even holding something, and chuckled. “These are my little sister’s favorite,” he said, eyes glinting fondly. “She made me promise not to come home without them.”

"Ah," Kurt said, wanting to say ‘aww’ but managing somehow not to. His eyes flicked from Dave to the cereal display, where he grabbed a box of Froot Loops and added it to his basket. "Finn and Sam could demolish a box of these in one sitting."

It wasn’t until he turned back to Dave and caught the sympathetic look on his face that he realized what he’d said, but once he did, his smile faltered. He let out a shaky breath and then recovered.

Dave watched him quietly for a few moments, like he was considering how best to proceed. Weighing his words. Kurt simultaneously hated and appreciated it. “I was sorry to hear about Finn,” he said, so much softer than Kurt had ever imagined Dave’s voice could be. “I didn’t go to the service — didn’t want to intrude — but, uh, I did send some flowers to your parents’ house.”

Kurt gave him a watery smile. “You wouldn’t have been intruding,” he said, as though it should’ve been obvious, but a part of him felt responsible for Dave believing he wasn’t welcome. They had parted on amicable terms, of course, but Kurt had been awful with keeping in touch. He couldn’t say he blamed Dave for not being sure if his presence would be appreciated. He reached out to lay his free hand on Dave’s forearm, gently squeezing. “But I’m sure the flowers were beautiful. Thank you, David.”

From somewhere to the left of them, there was the abrupt sound of someone loudly clearing their throat. Kurt turned to see a woman, middle-aged and stout, watching them with a small smile.

"Thought I’d find you around here. Did you get your sister’s cereal?" she asked Dave, eyes crinkling with what Kurt thought might be amusement as she looked between the two of them, and belatedly, Kurt realized that his hand was still on Dave’s arm, probably even holding a little tighter now.

Kurt withdrew his hand while Dave was making introductions, covering the movement by turning it into a shy little wave. “Hello, Mrs. Karofsky. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

"So this is Kurt," she said, eyeing Dave with a smirk. "It’s nice to meet you too, dear. I’ve heard so much about you."

"All good, I hope?" Kurt said, turning his gaze back to Dave, who seemed in the middle of a conversation with his mother that consisted entirely of eyebrow movements.

When Dave realized Kurt was watching him, he spluttered out a quick, “What? Oh, uh, yeah. All good stuff,” and Kurt could just barely hear Mrs. Karofsky chuckling under her breath.

"Well," she said, glancing between the two of them, "I’m gonna go hit frozen food. Your father is going to eat more vegetables if I have to puree them and funnel them directly down his throat."

She smiled warmly at Kurt and pushed her cart in the direction of the freezer section, and then it was just the two of them again. Kurt looked back up at Dave and found that he had receded into the aisle, putting a few steps between them. It still wasn’t enough space to make the blush on his cheeks any less obvious, though, and Kurt bit his lip to keep from saying something about it being endearing.

"So that’s my mom," Dave said feebly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his black fleece jacket, and Kurt wondered briefly how he’d missed the hand-off of the cereal to Mrs. Karofsky, but he guessed he’d been kind of distracted with wondering what Dave had said to his mom about him.

Was that vain? Kurt didn’t know. But, he thought, it was nice to know that Dave had thought about him enough to mention him in passing. It was really nice, actually. Kurt blushed a little at how nice it was.

"She’s lovely," Kurt told him, smiling softly. "You two seem close."

"Yeah, we are. She’s most of the reason why I decided to stay local for college. After everything, uh, well, you know… we really bonded. I can talk to her in a way that I can’t with my dad, you know?" he said, and then quickly added, "Not that he’s a dick or anything."

Kurt bit back a giggle. “Of course not,” he said, and there was this moment of prolonged eye contact, just long enough that Kurt felt like squirming in his boots, fumbling to think of something to say. “So, um. Your sister, the Lucky Charms addict. She must be happy to have you at home.”

He watched Dave’s eyes flick over his face, and he couldn’t decide if Dave looked more like he was searching for something, or if he’d already found it and was turning it over in his head, so he quickly schooled his features into what he hoped was a mild and unreadable expression.

Dave huffed quietly, then nodded. “Yeah, I guess. I think she was planning on moving into my bedroom if I had left, but she’d never admit it. She’s a good kid.”

Kurt smiled. “She sounds like it,” he said, and then before he could fully process it, he added, “I’d like to meet her sometime.”

"Oh," Dave said, face inscrutable, and then he smiled. "You know, she actually said the same thing about you. A few times."

And again, Kurt was struck dumb by the notion that Dave had talked to his family about him enough times that he’d left an impression. He wanted to ask, really badly wanted to ask what kind of glowing praise Dave could’ve given him, but he felt strangely nervous, so he bit down on his smile and tried not to blush too tremendously.

"Um," Kurt said, shuffling from foot to foot. He wanted to say something that could be overstepping some kind of line, and the words got lodged in his throat. He took a breath, steeled his nerves, and looked up at Dave. "I’m making breakfast at my house tomorrow morning. I’d like it if you and your sister could come."

Dave looked surprised, and then he looked a soft shade of pink. “I’ll, uh- I’ll ask her.”

"Do you still have my number?" Kurt asked, but Dave was too distracted with staring down at Kurt’s basket to answer. No, at his hand. His left hand. His ring. Oh. Suddenly Kurt was very aware of its presence on his finger. "I… um. Sorry, I overstepped."

Dave huffed, shook his head. “You know, I heard a lot of stuff about Blaine, but the one thing I couldn’t believe was that you actually agreed to marry him,” he said, face flashing a mixture of disappointed and forlorn before going utterly blank. “But that’s not my place to say. Sorry.”

And that should’ve been Kurt’s cue to mutter a polite goodbye and leave. It really should’ve been. Instead he took a step closer, and then another. Dave smelled good, Kurt noted absently, and may have also taken in a deep lungful of musk and pine as he took one more step.

"You don’t have to apologize," Kurt said, setting his basket on the floor. He looked up through his eyelashes at Dave, smiled weakly, and dropped his gaze to Dave’s collar; counted teeth on the fleece’s zipper. When he could, he quietly added, "I surprised myself, too. But I guess… how many times am I going to get proposed to, you know?"

Dave lowered his head and muttered something so quietly that Kurt still couldn’t catch it, despite how close they were standing to each other.

"What?"

"Every day," Dave said, sheepish and ruddy-cheeked. "You should be proposed to every day."

"Oh," Kurt breathed out, and then, because things felt a little dangerous and he was belatedly realizing just how close he’d put himself to Dave, he decided to try to turn it into a joke. "I don’t know, I think the proposer would get tired of it after a year or five."

Dave chuckled softly, then shook his head. “Nah,” he said, small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Not when it’s you.”

Understanding that his plan had failed, Kurt promptly sucked in a breath and probably turned a shade of red. When had Dave gotten so smooth? When had Kurt become so receptive? He didn’t know, but his head was swimming nonetheless, and his hand reached out again — his right hand, the left felt too heavy to lift — to curl around Dave’s arm.

"I’d like to see you again. Is that okay?" Kurt said, and he couldn’t be sure if he was asking Dave, or himself, or the universe, but his throat felt tight and stomach felt strange, and he knew that he very much wanted for Dave’s answer to be ‘yes’.

Dave looked down at him, considering, and nodded slowly. “I- yeah. I’d like that, too.”

"Good," Kurt managed softly, and let his hand fall from Dave’s arm. "So, tomorrow morning? My house around 9:30? Sister is optional but certainly appreciated."

"Yeah," Dave said, face alight. Kurt didn’t know why, but it all felt promising. "I think we can be there."

Kurt smiled. “I’ll see you in the morning, David.”

"See you then," Dave said, taking a few steps before he called over his shoulder, "I’ll bring some real bacon!"

Kurt stared after him, aghast. “You most certainly will not!”

He could hear Dave laughing all the way to frozen foods.


End file.
